


Peonies and Gold

by Leninouche



Series: A Witcher and a Bard on Holidays [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: And it‘s a lot of mystery, Fluff, M/M, Mystery, Whoop whoop holiday time, and a, find out for yerselves, ghost - Freeform, it‘s basically a load of fluff, so what happened in the mysterious hut by the sea?, soft, sort of sequel of my first story circuitous affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22061074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leninouche/pseuds/Leninouche
Summary: Finally Jaskier and Geralt take a holiday together, in a mysteriously empty hut Jaskier found ages ago. Is there a deeper secret behind this place? And also: how relaxed can a Witcher get? Questions that need answers.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: A Witcher and a Bard on Holidays [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587856
Comments: 10
Kudos: 106





	1. One - Exposition

Jaskier‘s secret hideout had turned out to be a small hut located right atop a steep cliff. The place was basically cut off from the world, with a dense patch of forest behind the hut and nothing but greyish sea in front of it. There was a small strip of stony beach reachable by scaling down a steep ravine of loose pebbles and sand, a rather dangerous path, and since neither water nor weather were nice enough to actually take a swim, Geralt and Jaskier had not yet ventured there.  
The hideout was wonderfully peaceful and quiet with no one interrupting their solitude but the seagulls and the wind. Within the forest lay a small pond excellent for bathing and with clean enough water to be drinkable and Geralt found plenty of hares and birds between the trees, enough to sustain them for a while.  
Jaskier had been lucky to find a place like this and even luckier to have remained the only person knowing about it- until Geralt, of course. It was an interesting story, and Jaskier told it to the Witcher one rainy night, about three days after their arrival. They sat on the floor, Geralt leaning against the bed and Jaskier practically lying in his lap, head resting upon his thigh. His lute sat upon his stomach, fingers plucking at the strings softly. A fire crackled in the hearth, drenching the room in a dark-red glow and illuminating both their faces. Lazy melodies flowed from the lute until Geralt suddenly spoke up.  
„How did you come about a place like this?“  
He glanced downwards, catching Jaskier‘s blue eyes.  
„Well, ah, it‘s a rather curious story, really. Drenched with... beauty, whole hours of it, followed by escapades, heroic flights, skillful acrobatics-“  
„Mhh let me guess. You ran from a disapproving husband, thought the forest might hide you, then stumbled out here.“  
The bard cocked his head to the side, trying to look innocent.  
„Pretty much, yes. It was a disapproving wife actually- really scary. Threw a shoe at my head! But that is not the interesting part. See, when I found the hut, that was probably like... five years ago...it looked rather cute, with flowers on the grass- it was summer then- and a pretty rosish- reddish- kind of blushy pink painted upon its walls. I thought someone might be home and by now I was positively starving, running for three hours is not kind on the stomach, you know- you do know, obviously you do- sorry I’m getting sidetracked. Uh... I- Oh yes! So I knocked on the door... But there was no answer. I opened the door but, alas, the domain was empty! There was no fire or anything, but food stood upon the table- pancakes, my absolute favorite- and some pen and paper lay around as if only a minute ago someone had been using them. At the time all this didn‘t bother me very much, there were other... things on my mind-„  
Here Geralt let out a snort.  
„Anyways- I ate the pancakes- don‘t look at me like that, I fully intended to replace them with different food the next morning! It’s not stealing, it’s simply... an exchange! And then I went to sleep. Next morning I awoke feeling incredibly refreshed- but there still was nobody in the hut, no one had come home and nothing had been moved or taken during my rest. Now I began to be rather suspicious! What if there were thieves nearby? Or some sort of monster? Or maybe the hut was cursed, I thought. I packed my things and fled the scene. But I did leave a note behind, just in case, telling them that I was awfully sorry for using their private space like that blah blah blah, you get the gist. Cue curtain, the closing of act one.“  
Geralt hummed softly, pushing his fingers into Jaskier‘s curls.  
„You came back here. Why?“  
The bard was silent for a moment, eyes closed, breathing slowly. He needed some time to fully process the touch.  
„I was... worried, I think. I don‘t know... I ate their food and used their bed and didn‘t even... try to help even though something might have happened to them... a few months had since gone by, but I was in the vicinity and thought, why not give it a shot...“  
„You‘re too soft.“  
The bard opened his eyes and raised a hand.  
„Wrong! I‘m just nice. It‘s good to be nice.“  
Geralt shook his head with a smile but didn‘t answer, a sign for Jaskier to continue.  
„Anyways. No one was here. And everything lay as it had been before. Like, you don‘t understand- literally everything! The pan, the ruffled pillows, the quills, everything. Even my note! The only addition was the amount of dirt accumulating on the surfaces. And uh... since no one seemed to live here anymore, that‘s when I decided to just keep this place as a sort of plan B. Just in case. I mean, a nice hideout can always come in handy.“  
A smirk passed over his face as he tilted his head a little to look up at the Witcher.  
„As we can see now.“  
Geralt hummed again, eyes darting towards the fire. He seemed to be thinking about something.  
„And all those years no one but you found this hut.“  
There was a certain underlying atmosphere of deep suspicion in his voice now. Jaskier glanced at his face.  
„What are you implying?“  
„Well... it is rather strange no one came here. No accidental traveller, like you. Not in five years? Mh...“  
That sounded an awful lot like worry and the bard was not having it. He sat up quickly and grabbed Geralt‘s shoulders.  
„Well. Maybe I‘m just lucky? I must be, for I somehow managed to get you in here with me.“  
Grinning, he pressed a kiss to Geralt‘s lips and apparently the distraction worked for the Witcher did not bring the topic up again.

And so their night had ended, on the floor in comfort until both men were fast asleep. It was strange being together in such a safe environment with nothing distracting them from each other. No monsters to kill, no bandits to scare away, no travelling, no other company. Just Geralt and Jaskier, together in a hut by the ocean. And for as much as they tended to complain about each other to each other during their adventures, it was more a game than real conflict. Geralt did not really hate Jaskier‘s talking, rather on the contrary: he loved listening to the bard‘s voice. And Jaskier was not really annoyed by Geralt‘s grumpiness, he found it amusing, and all gestures of affection were sure to have come straight from the Witcher‘s heart instead of being empty niceties.  
In a sense this strange holiday Jaskier had initiated was a test. Him and Geralt worked well together in times of combat and stress, but would they be alright in times of peace as well? Both had been unsure at first, but very quickly, as life in the hut became normal, their anxieties had proven to be unfounded. No arguments ensued, no fighting. Geralt seemed relaxed for once, even his face was smooth and calm, no lip-pursing or low humming. With Jaskier it showed differently: he talked a little less, as if a filter had been inserted between brain and mouth for once. What he ended up saying was surprisingly profound and sincere instead of funny, proving that there was more behind that facade of facetiousness. And so a week passed in peace, filled with conversation, singing, cooking and reading to each other or sitting side by side on the dirty grass, each one following his own thoughts.  
Upon the eighth day, however, something disrupted the comfortable calm.

„Yeah, I can see now why you Witchers don‘t retire.“, Jaskier remarked with a raised brow, standing by the window with a cup of tea in his hand. He watched Geralt pace up and down the room, glancing outside every now and then. Upon the bard‘s comment, though, Geralt stopped and faced him with a disbelieving expression.  
„You were attacked by a noonwraith, Jaskier. That‘s no joke.“  
The bard made a clicking noise with his tongue.  
„Oh, come on. That wasn‘t a noonwraith. Probably just some... wild boar... or something... with especially scratchy hooves.“  
Absentmindedly he drew a finger over the red scratch-marks decorating his left arm. He simply did not want to acknowledge the truth- a noonwraith, really? Why here? And why now? All those years he‘d crashed here for weeks at a time- nothing. But as soon as Geralt of Rivia was supposed to get some god-damn well-deserved rest the ghost decided to show up! It was ridiculous.  
„If we ignore it, it will only get worse.“, the Witcher interrupted his train of thought.  
„Maybe not though! Maybe it will just go away! You don‘t have to hunt every single monster we encounter, sometimes you can let the world sort itself out too!“  
Jaskier‘s voice got louder with every word, hands gesticulating wildly in the air. The intensity of his distress seemed rather disproportionate to Geralt at first, until he heard the Bard‘s last sentence. A deep hum escaped his pursed lips, amusement showing in his eyes.  
„I thought you were just scared. But it‘s not about the wraith. It‘s about me.“  
Jaskier threw him a sarcastic look, crossing his arms over his chest, and bit his lip instead of answering.  
„It won‘t take long. An afternoon at the most. It‘s really no trouble-„  
„Well that‘s the point, Geralt! You always say: oh it‘s just one more job, just one more small thing, after that I‘ll take a break- only that you never, ever do! Because it keeps piling up! And then another year is over and you‘ve done nothing but working and ploughing through forests and marshes. And now, when I‘ve finally got you to sit down and relax for five minutes, this shitty ghost thing turns up, luring you outside again!“  
For several seconds they merely looked at one another before Jaskier deflated with a deep sigh.  
„It‘s just so unfair...“  
Geralt‘s lips twitched into a gentle smile as he stepped forwards, reaching out for Jaskier‘s hands.  
„You‘re overthinking this.“  
No... that wasn‘t a good formulation for what he wanted to say...  
For a moment he thought about words, then started again.  
„I uh... appreciate your concern. And the idea of this holiday thing in general. Really.“  
Not the best but Jaskier seemed to catch the sincerity, for he returned Geralt‘s gaze steadily.  
„And so far it was really- great. I did not know I could keep still for so long. Or that I had felt so tense. So it‘s okay for me to remove this one wraith, it doesn‘t ruin anything. Besides. If I leave it, it might cause unnecessary harm. Don‘t want that, right? It‘s the lesser evil.“  
There were many things left unsaid, words of thanks and appreciation that stuck to the back of Geralt‘s mind, out of reach for his tongue. He‘d gotten better at voicing his thoughts and feelings to Jaskier, but was still a long way from becoming naturally inclined to share what happened inside that large head of his. To be frank, he didn‘t expect a total turn of character, he still preferred to keep silent about his opinions and thoughts for the most part, but there were moments in which he wished to be better at communicating verbally.  
Slowly, Jaskier nodded, sighing, but there was also a smile hidden behind his concern.  
„Well... Fine then, I guess... it‘s not like I could stop you from going anyways...“  
„Mh. I bet you‘d find a way.“  
That finally put the smile back to Jaskier‘s lips. His eyes met Geralt‘s, and he circled his finger‘s around the witcher‘s.  
„Say. Are you really enjoying this here? Like, really really? Be honest.“  
The witcher nodded before pressing a kiss to his bard‘s forehead.  
„I do. Really. Finally a good idea of yours.“  
„Rude?“, Jaskier complained, smacking Geralt‘s arm semi-forcefully.  
„Unbelievable... Well... go on then, you brute. Get that thing out of my house and I‘ll pay you in dinner. Maybe you‘ll even get a song.“

Geralt set to work then, waisting no time on dealing with the wraith. By noon next day, when she was bound to appear, he wanted to be ready with preparations so as little time as possible would be wasted. First of all there was a skeleton to be found, then the object binding the wraith to the world of the living. And thirdly, once both items were burned properly, the fighting would follow. Sounded easy, but Geralt was sure the wraith would turn out to be the hut‘s former occupant, and after Jaskier‘s story they would have died years ago. Important clues were bound to get lost, traces would vanish. Maybe the corpse had disappeared too, eaten up by some wild animal or other.  
But all this would be worth reestablishing security in this wonderful place. Finally the mystery of Jaskier‘s Hideout would be unveiled.


	2. Two - Speculation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier search for clues on what might have happened to the noonwraith. What they find is confusing. Will they solve the mystery?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you'll enjoy :)

Geralt stalked over the scrawny grass, hand raised to protect his face from the wind. Behind him, Jaskier uttered a string of curses as he, once again, managed to stumble over some small pebble. Usually Geralt would find that entertaining, but so close to the cliffs caution was vital and one wrong step could easily lead to disaster. He didn‘t want yet another noonwraith haunting these premises. And he certainly did not want it to be Jaskier.  
„Watch your feet. Wait- Walk before me. I can catch you more easily then.“  
The witcher stopped to let the bard pass by, then followed him down the slippery ravine leading to the beach, one hand holding Jaskier‘s shoulder firmly.  
Since the hut and its direct surroundings had presented no hints of corpses nor bones so far, Geralt had decided to check the beach for the noonwraith’s body before anywhere else.  
„You know, in summer this... rocky slope might be a nice little place to admire the sea from. Great view. Mh... I wonder why I haven‘t written anything about the sea yet. Shit- we need to turn back! I forgot my notebook in the hut! And I‘m feeling inspired!“  
„You won‘t need it anymore when you lie down there with a broken neck, Jaskier.“, Geralt murmured distinctly, finally bringing the bard to silence and -hopefully- vigilance for the rest of the slope.  
The beach consisted mainly of palm-sized pebbles in various shades of grey and lilac. They formed one streak of colour with the dark blue sea and white sky and pale ochre cliffs, inspiring a rather desolate feeling about the place. Maybe if the evening-sun graced these stones with its rays, it might look welcoming like the hut above, but right now Geralt felt as if they were disturbing a quiet that should not have been stirred. He let out a low hum and walked a few steps, eyes darting over the pebbles in search of some sort of clue, whatever it would look like.  
„Oh my!“  
Jaskier‘s exclamation made the witcher spin around in alarm, hand already near his sword.  
„Look, Geralt! This stone looks exactly like something my history professor used to have on his desk back in the days! Funny, no?“  
„Don‘t move anything Jaskier or I‘ll send you back upstairs again.“, Geralt growled back, slowly relaxing. He watched the bard throw the stone back on the ground before facing the cliff. Somewhere there had to be something... some clue... come on...  
„You know, he used to tell me a rather interesting story about it at some point. He guarded that thing with his life, I tell you, so naturally I grew curious. There were other stones on his table too, like... geodes and-“  
Some fallen soil, maybe? That could indicate something had tumbled from the cliff... or someone. But rain and wind would have washed it away by now...  
„-used to throw them at us occasionally, if we weren‘t listening. Or if we used books to hide our flasks of ale... Good God! Oxenfurt ale! How I miss it! But yeah, that one stone always rested there, untouched. It was just the same as this one here, rust-red with speckles of black. One day, I found the courage to ask him about it. Okay, maybe- just maybe I did it on a dare. Okay I did do it on a dare and I earned myself a-„  
Jaskier‘s talking faded into the background as Geralt activated his witcher senses. But even now there was absolutely nothing. No clues. No indication of a corpse.  
„-that those particular stones were made of specific soil that reacted to its surroundings. Apparently they are pretty rare, but if for example a rose flowers near it, the stone will suck nutrients from its root and incorporate them into its own flesh. Obviously, that sounds impossible for a stone and hence there were many theories about this thing being some sort of mushroom or other... anyways- the particular red-tinge and the speckles my Prof‘s stone had were specific reactions to contact with blood. The blood would drop onto the stone and, if being left there for long enough, would melt into it, causing this colour and pattern. Pretty cool, huh? I never asked him where the blood on his own stone had come from, though. Probably better so, he was found murdered in his latrine a few years ago, quite a sad-„  
„What did you just say?“, Geralt interrupted suddenly, only now fully processing what Jaskier had said.  
„Huh? That my professor got murdered in his latrine? Oh, don‘t worry, things like that are common in-„  
„No. Before that. Stone... blood.. repeat please.“  
As Jaskier repeated his Professor‘s explanation Geralt stalked over to him before kneeling down to examine the stone.  
„It was this one?“  
„Yes but- oh. Oh! Oh, Geralt! Geralt I found a clue!“  
„Let‘s hope you did.“  
For a while the witcher sifted through the stones, searching for similar ones to the one Jaskier had found. The bard watched on in silence, hands against his waist, trying to stand just so that the wind would comb the hair from his face instead of blowing it in.  
„Mhh... seems to be nothing more here...“, Geralt mumbled before his eyes wandered towards the cliff a few meters away. There were scrawny thorn-bushes growing at the bottom of the wall, sneaking their dry arms up towards the sky. It was too early in the year for leaves and so every single branch was clearly visibly against the whitish surface behind. Upon further inspection, some of them seemed to be lighter in colour than the rest, as if younger... and behind them...  
„Jaskier lend me a hand here.“  
Geralt began untying the branches, not even noticing some thorns pricking through his weathered skin- unlike Jaskier, who helped but with much protest and grief for his „soft, baby-smooth hands! I need those to play my lute! To work! Geraaaalt-„  
„Calm down. I‘ll make you a salve for the cuts later. Besides, bruises add character to a person.“ With a smirk Geralt glanced up at the bard‘s unconvinced face.  
„I have character alright! But well, they do make you look rather sexy...“  
Jaskier frowned before glancing down at Geralt through his eyelashes, trying to be seductive. It stood quite at odds with the situation they were in currently.  
„You like that, witcher?“  
’Witcher’ had to raise an inhuman amount of self-control to keep from laughing and continue with the investigation.  
The reward came almost immediately. Once the branches were gone a small hole within the wall revealed itself. It was very small, certainly too small for Geralt. But with some effort and wriggling a tinier, slimmer person could probably fit through...  
„Jaskier.“  
The poet sensed immediately what Geralt had in mind and let out a squeal of protest.  
„Aw, come on! You don‘t really want me to crawl into that mysterious, dark and rotten hole, right? I mean, think of what could happen! I‘m small and defenseless! I could be attacked by uh... bats! Bats or vampires! Nono, You do not want me to go in there at all!“  
„There won‘t be any vampires, the hole‘s too small. And what monster would prowl on the beach. Only those connected to water. And those would certainly not enter a cave. No come on, you wanted to help me, then do. You‘ve done worse than this.“  
„Which doesn‘t mean I‘m proud of it!“  
„No, but used to it, at least.“  
Geralt suddenly grew serious.  
„Jaskier. I wouldn‘t ask you if I didn‘t think what you might find there could be important. And if I didn’t believe you’d be safe without me. Please. Get in the hole.“  
For a moment both men simply looked at each other, then, with a long sigh, Jaskier dropped to the earth and began wriggling through the hole. It took him a few seconds and some pushing from Geralt‘s side, but eventually his head disappeared into the darkness and all that was perceivable from the bard were his grunts of displeasure and disgust.  
„God- I can‘t bloody see, Geralt! There‘s- AH! Oh shit! Shit! Ah- wait- it was just a plant... never mind!“  
Geralt dropped onto his bottom and stretched out his legs.  
„Can you see enough not to stumble and break your neck?“  
„Ha ha. Hm... actually, yes... the light is faint but...“  
Jaskier‘s voice trailed off as he ventured further from the entrance. The witcher made himself comfortable and waited.

The cave itself was certainly more impressive than could have been guessed from its entrance. After having navigated a short corridor almost blindly, Jaskier found himself within a big hall hewn into the stone. There were small holes in the walls revealing flecks of sky and more thorns and providing the cave with a soft, greyish light. Some long, meagre plants hung from the rocks idly, almost reaching the floor. Some smaller and hardier ones nestled in between crevices, reaching their hairy, fleshy leaves up towards the light. The sound of dripping echoed from somewhere.  
Jaskier let out a low whistle and took in the whole scene. It was beautiful, but in a specific raw kind of way. It was that special kind of beauty someone could count themselves lucky to ever come across. It was the same kind of beauty a certain person Jaskier held very dear to his heart possessed.  
Back to the cave-  
To think that all this lay beneath his small hut...  
speaking of which.  
He shook himself from his reverie and stepped further into the hall, glancing around for some sort of clue. There were marks of tools along the ceiling and on the walls, so no doubt someone had expanded this place artificially. Meaning someone designed this underground paradise on purpose. Interesting... for what purpose...?  
Not seeing the- rather prominent- stone right in front of his feet, Jaskier stubbed his foot straight against it and almost lost his balance.  
„Shit-!“  
He stumbled around for a good moment, arms flailing before recatching his balance. Once steadied he threw the offender a boiling glare- only to halt in surprise. A shaft of light fell directly onto the stone, and within that shaft...  
a small plant with light-blue petals shaped like a star. Interesting.  
Jaskier had seen this before, he knew he had, perhaps in botany? Mh, he couldn‘t remember. But there was something important about that plant...  
Without really knowing why, Jaskier broke off one of the stalks and put it into his pocket. Maybe Geralt would know what to do with this.  
Just as he was about to straighten up again, something on the wall ahead of him caught his attention. It was another hole. This one was a little bigger though.  
Hell, he‘d squeezed through one already today, might as well do another one.  
What he found was a new corridor and then-

„Geralt! I found something!“  
The witcher could hear Jaskier‘s voice echo in the cave and got up, in case his bard needed help. But to his surprise he slipped through the hole swiftly and without complication nor complaint. Mh.  
„Wow- you‘ll never- guess- what I just- saw!“, Jaskier panted, struggling back to his feet. He apparently didn‘t notice the streaks of mud on his arms and clothes nor the pieces of moss stuck in his hair, but Geralt reached out and removed the last bits carefully.  
„Tell me, then.“  
„Okay so- there‘s a cave, a huge cave right beneath the hut and it‘s Beautiful! God, so beautiful! You’d absolutely love it!There‘s like plants and shafts of light and water dripping from the walls-„  
„Light?“  
With a furrowed brow Geralt glanced upwards, examining the thorn-speckled wall. To his surprise there were some small holes in it that he hadn‘t noticed earlier.  
„Yeah! And I found something. Two things, to be exact. See, I can be useful in an investigation after all!“  
„I never said you weren‘t. But tell me what you found, Jaskier.“  
The bard reached into his pocket and produced the small star-shaped flower.  
„There was a whole bunch of these on some stone, I thought they looked familiar and so took one. I think I‘ve seen that flower before, but I can‘t remember where.“  
„Mh. It‘s used by magicians...“  
Gently the Witcher took the bloom and twirled it between his fingers.  
„For portals... usually... untrackable portals...“  
He remained silent for a moment, lost in contemplation, then looked up at Jaskier again.  
„What‘s the other thing you found?“

„How did you not notice this in all the years you‘ve been here.“  
They were back in the hut, standing over a big square-shaped hole in the floor. Beside it rested the heavy wood-plate that had barred the entrance.  
„Hey, in my defense there was a carpet lying over it! Why would I look beneath carpets?“  
Geralt didn‘t answer that. He stepped closer to the hole and peered inside, then threw a look at the sky.  
„Mh. We still have some time. But noon is soon. Let‘s hurry. Maybe we can finish this today.“  
They descended down the narrow ladder that looked as if it was close to becoming a heap of splinters, and found themselves in a small but nontheless impressive room. The walls were paneled with dark wood and decorated with several parchments of paper stuck to it, showing mostly drawings and what looked like letters. Thick carpets covered the floor and besides two chests and a drawer there also stood a bed in one of the corners. It seemed... homely. As if designed to be inhabited for longer stretches of time.  
„Huh... look, here‘s the flower again...“, Jaskier suddenly remarked, pointing at one of the drawings.  
„Mhh... don‘t touch anything yet, we don‘t know if this place is protected by magic. Maybe not even magic...“  
Geralt pulled the matches he‘d picked up earlier out of his pocket and lit one of the candles standing around. After several flickers the room became visible in the golden light.  
„Seems to have been empty for a while. No dust... so no one opened the doors or spent time in here in the past months, at least.“  
„Look- there‘s some bread and water!“  
Geralt went over and examined both.  
„Bread is hard as a stone. And there‘s no water left, the chalice is empty.“  
„Mh... so someone‘s been here- ah see, the bed is untidy as well- but not in a long while... Actually... the hut felt exactly like this when I first came here. Maybe the inhabitant hid here, in this cave? And I walked right above them... not even knowing...“  
„They couldn‘t have pulled the rug over the trapdoor by themselves... probably entered through the... ah.“  
One of the walls was decorated with a large tapestry bearing what looked like a unicorn surrounded by roses. There was an inscription running along the edges but it was faded and illegible. Geralt had pulled the tapestry away to look behind and had found what he was looking for- a door. Jaskier let out a sound of approval.  
„That‘s the door I saw in the cave! I recognize those carvings! Peonys, they are, I think. And pretty detailed too. A master must have carved this...“  
He stepped closer and ran a finger over the woodwork.  
„Wait... but it‘s smooth... doesn‘t look carved to me...“  
„Magic.“  
Geralt pushed the door open and glanced outside. Yet another dark corridor lay before him, ending in what he assumed was Jaskier‘s cave.  
„First the flowers, now the door. There must have been a magician here. Would explain why no one’s found this place in all that time- there‘s probably protection spells around it. Mh... but I never sensed anything. And you got in here allright. No... no spells...“  
„Geralt- look here! A quill! And some ink. It‘s open. Someone must have written something while they were here.“  
Jaskier glanced up at the papers on the wall, squinting. The writing on the letters was so scrawny, it was almost impossible to guess at their meaning.  
„Dear...est... mhhh... a name, probably... Sanna? Shanne? Something something... deepest... emotions... wait-„  
After a short silence, Jaskier continued.  
„These are love letters! And quite poetical ones at that! A great style... original metaphors... wow. I think I can guess at what this hut was used for: a hideout for some sorcerer‘s mistress. It makes sense, the letters, the magic door and flowers. And when I found this place, maybe the sorcerer had just decided he was tired of his girl and dismissed her.“  
„Mh. No. You said there was food on the table, it looked like someone had been there moments before. Something else must have happened... You say there‘s ink and a quill- where‘s the parchment though?“  
„Uh- I didn‘t see it anywhere- maybe she hid it?“  
They began to search for the lost parchment, opening drawer after drawer but found nothing except for common items of clothing, not so common items of what they assumed was clothing, some bottles of wine and a lot of candles. They even searched the already messy bed but nothing was there either.  
„Fuck. That parchment might have told us about what happened.“  
„Maybe beneath the carpets? Behind one of the drawings- wait, is that a naked lady-„  
„We don‘t have time for this now, Jaskier!“  
Geralt fell onto the bed with a sigh and shoved some stray strands of hair out of his face.  
„Okay... you came. She hid here. She entered through the cave. She must have bled... because the stone... the stone... why would she bleed... maybe...“  
Suddenly, he raised his head.  
„She hid in here when you came. She heard you moving above. She waited. She hoped the sorcerer would come and help- no doubt she was scared of visitors, why else would she hide. She was scared of a specific kind of visitor. The next morning, she heard you leave. She couldn‘t risk using the trap door, what if you just pretended to leave or if you just went for a walk, so she exited through the cave. On her way out, she cut herself on the thorns, blood dropped onto the stone. She came up here, saw you were gone. Maybe she saw your note. She... what then...“  
They fell silent once again and Jaskier began pacing the floor.  
„Geralt- if she came upstairs once I‘d left and saw my note- clearly I wasn‘t the person she was scared of seeing here- I wrote in it that I might come back since the place is so nice- maybe she hid the parchment upstairs! Maybe she hoped I‘d come back soon and help her... in some way... wait- the place was probably protected... to be kept from detection... a shield made by the sorcerer... maybe she thought I was some sort of powerful wizard-guy that could breach through the sorcerer‘s protection unharmed? I don‘t know if that makes sense but- “  
Geralt stood up.  
„Yes. Let‘s look upstairs.“

Fuelled with adrenaline the bard and the witcher ploughed through the hut, examining every corner and crevice, shaking out rugs and pillows, lifting lose floorboards and even checking cupboards for double doors or some kind of secret compartments.  
But nothing. Not a single peace of parchment.  
They weren‘t really any closer to a solution, all they had were their suspicions.  
It was an hour until noon, Geralt sat on the floor with a sour expression, spinning a knife he‘d found on the floor in his hand. Jaskier rested on a stool besides a shelf full of books, staring listlessly at the titles. He was hungry and exhausted. And he wanted to kick that noonwraith in the ass for plunging them into this shitty heist. God... this was not what holidays should be like... they should just leave. And never return. This wouldn‘t just take a day, this would drag on forever. And if they didn‘t solve the mystery at all, Geralt would surely be losing sleep over it for months to come!  
The bard sighed and refocussed on the books. They looked old. They looked pretty expensive, too. That sorcerer must have really cared for his mistress. Or maybe he needed a place to dump his favourites at. Both in Literature and People.  
Glanville‘s The Secret of Secrets... The History of the World... Oho, The Adversities of Loving... interesting. More standard works... some poetry... Ducon‘s first novel Blooming Heaven... Ducon‘s second novel Glades of Green.. Ducon‘s-  
„Huh. I never knew Ducon published three novels.“  
Geralt didn‘t look up.  
„What?“  
„Ducon. This poetical author dude from two hundred years ago? Set the basics for the novel? He wrote only two books in his lifetime but they hit hard, revolutionized the whole tradition of literature.“  
At Geralt‘s confused face, Jaskier shrugged.  
„Doesn‘t matter, but here‘s a third book of his. Which I‘ve never heard about. Technically, it shouldn‘t even exist... Man, if I show this to the Oxenfurt Librarian... I‘ll become a rich and famous man... Even more so than I am now, of course...“  
Tentatively he pulled out the volume- it was heavy.  
Way too heavy for roughly 300 pages.  
Jaskier opened the book.  
And let out a gasp.  
„Geralt- I found it!“


	3. Three- Resolution

The book, it turned out, was not a book at all. What Jaskier found upon opening the cover was not pages of writing- but a neatly cut hole. And within said hole lay a crookedly folded letter and a small comb decorated with ruby-crusted peonies.  
„God... this is absolutely brilliant...“, Jaskier whispered as Geralt picked up the letter. He turned the box over in his hands, held it up close to his eye.  
„You can‘t see the difference between real thing and fake... they even made the pages look genuine... if it weren‘t for my knowledge if literature, we‘d never have found this...“  
Meanwhile, Geralt examined the letter further.  
„There‘s no addressee. At least nothing is written on the envelope.“  
The witcher unfolded the paper and let the envelope drop on the floor carelessly. For a moment he regarded the hastily crawled writing, then began reading aloud as Jaskier bent over his shoulder.

”’Dearest- I don‘t have time.   
Yesterday someone entered the hut. I thought it was Them but I was wrong. I hid beneath and crawled out the next morning to find the visitor has left a note- some bard or other.‘“  
Jaskier let out an indignant snort. Before he could say anything more though, Geralt continued.  
„’How he managed to come in, I know not, but it means that They can not be far. The shield must have been broken and evidently not by the boy-’“  
„Boy?! I am thirty-three! This is harrassment!“  
Once more, he was ignored.  
„’Please come quick, I am scared- I miss you. Your protection is faltering, i can sense it and I worry.   
Please hurry, I don‘t know what to do. They will find me eventually, the cave is not safe forever.  
But if something had happened to you- I‘d rather fall by their hands than live on alone.   
In the worst of cases- should you be too late- know that I forgive you always, and I love you, Sonja. I leave this behind, let‘s hope you can give it back to me soon.   
I pray to Melithele that she brings you home whole and in time.  
Yours always,  
Désirée“

Geralt let the paper sink a little.   
None of them said anything for a moment.  
„Ah well... my theory had not been too bad after all...“, Jaskier whispered then, turning his head to look up at Geralt.  
„So it seems.“  
Carefully the Witcher took the comb from the box. It was made entirely if gold and small enough so someone could stick it into their hair as an accessory. Three ruby peonies resided upon it, interwoven with metal leaves and -thorns. On the back stood something unintelligible to Geralt. He assumed the jumble of letters was some sort of secret code.  
„She never came back. Never read the letter. I never knew...“  
„Never knew what...?“, Jaskier asked softly when the Witcher failed to elaborate.  
„I ... the sorceress‘ name- Sonja. I have heard it before. And these flowers-„  
„Peonies.“  
„Yes. They have been on the door downstairs as well. I know them.“  
„You what?“  
Before repeating, Geralt sank down into a chair with a sigh.   
„I‘ve seen these things in combination before. Sonja Iris- or Blossom, as people called her- she was a sorceress of importance a few years ago.“  
„Blossom! You can‘t mean-„  
Jaskier sank onto the bed behind Geralt, taking hold of the witcher‘s hand.  
„I‘ve read of her! She was legendary. Her gorgeous flower-arrangements fill hundreds of history books!“, he exclaimed excitedly.  
„I know. She knew well how to bewitch and enchant plants to carry out her will. Whole banquet halls were influenced by the fragrance of her flowers and what dark ideas they carried. Whole kingdoms turned to war...“  
„Now- hang on! Not just war- I‘m strongly against this type of historical erasure! She was a political genius and a master-plotress and through her skill many a war was averted! I can‘t believe those old blockhead-scholars who suddenly decided to paint her in the light of evil. Nowadays it happens all the time. I still believe that strongly opinionated people should be prohibited from writing history books, they only muddle up the facts and interpret unnecessarily.“  
For a short moment Geralt‘s eyes were filled with fondness as he looked at his bard. But then reality caught up with him once more.  
„No matter how just a cause of war may be- the people who die in it are always innocents, plucked from their families for the sake of some nobleman‘s pride. But you are right, she was not evil. Just cunning. And dangerous.  
There were many who admired her, yet as many who were inclined to look at her in a less favorable way. I don‘t know how much your books told you about Dormen Gangeran?“  
„Wasn‘t he a general sorcerer-advisor...? A consultant wise-man?“  
„That‘s what he called himself, yes. And he did not like interference with his plans at all.“  
Jaskier remained silent for a moment, then something in his mind added the clues together.  
„You mean-„  
„I think so, yes. Blossom had continued crossing Gangeran‘s plans for decades despite evident warnings. She justified her manipulating- for that, essentially, was all her tricks were- by mentioning ancient plans for civilization and prophecies. It was unclear how much of this she believed in herself and how much was yet another strategy to justify her means. Whatever it was, Gangeran had had enough very soon. Everyone knew of the open feud between the two, yet no one dared interfere. It went on for years and it wasn‘t pretty. Yet I believe only the sorcerers knew, nothing escaped to humanity.  
But then, one day, Blossom just disappeared. No ceremony, no triumph, no burial and no drama. Gangeran never mentioned the matter again- which had a simple yet strange reason. His mind had been turned to mush and what was left was the drooling image of a once powerful sorcerer.“  
He squeezed Jaskier‘s hand gently.  
„It is generally believed that the inevitable fight had happened- and that both parties had ended up a fragment of their original selves.“  
„...I never knew... The books never mention Blossom and Gangeran together. I reckoned they lived roughly the same amount of time but this- why did no one write about this...“  
„Perhaps Gangeran‘s friends had an interest in keeping the sorcerer‘s name free from shame. I don‘t know. Maybe the sorcerers wanted to keep up the impression of inner unity. But the fight happened only a few years ago and was riddled with secrecy. And certainly no one knew about this.“  
Geralt waved a hand around, indicating the hut.   
„No. No one knew. They took great care of that...“, Jaskier murmured.   
„But evidently not enough... Blossom never came back here, or else the comb and letter would be gone.“  
„And no noonwraith would haunt the place.“  
All at once the bard let out a long and shuddering sigh. He rubbed a hand over his forehead and then turned to look out the window. Geralt knew the look in Jaskier‘s eyes, knew what the paling of his blue iris‘ meant. He repositioned himself on the bed, close beside the bard and slid his other hand over their joined palms. Jaskier took a breath.  
„It‘s just... I don‘t want to imagine what Désirée felt when she realized Blossom would not come... How long did she sit in that cavern underground? How long did she wait? Did she reread Sonja‘s letters over and over again? And what was in her face when she was detected? Fear? Regret? Pain?“  
„I don‘t think she had to wait for long... She mentioned the shields failing. Something must have happened to Blossom to cause this, perhaps she was injured. I reckon Gangeran finally got a hold of her- perhaps he disclosed what he knew about this place here. He wouldn’t have opened the shields for nothing, he probably had plans for Désirée.“  
„And Blossom just... snapped...?“  
„Perhaps.“  
They looked at each other for a moment.   
„Geralt. Find her corpse. Free her spirit from this world. Bring the story to a peaceful ending. Or, well... as peaceful as is possible now...“  
Geralt leant closer and dropped a kiss onto Jaskier‘s forehead.  
„I will.“

Geralt had felt uneasy, leaving Jaskier back in the hut, but the bard had asked for some solitude and in the end it was better having him safe somewhere away from the fight. The story of Blossom and Désirée had affected Jaskier stronger than Geralt would have guessed and he couldn‘t deny that, to a certain degree, he was worried.  
But all this anxiety he brushed away as he stalked into the forest, a flask of witcher elixir and the peony comb in his hands. After the beach and cliffs the forest seemed to be the only possible place the skeleton could rest in. And in retrospect- Jaskier had been attacked in front of the hut, after they‘d returned from taking a bath. The possibility of the wraith having followed them through the forest was very real.   
Contrary to the gloomy task he was about to accomplish, nature showed itself in its best colours today. The windy clouds had cleared to reveal endless blue and the golden sun and the left-over raindrops on leaves and bark glistened in its beams. Near and far birds sung their little songs and squirrels darted up trees every now and then. Spring was on its way. Geralt glanced up into the treetops, enjoying the light on his face and the soft breeze in his hair. He was looking forward to finishing with this story and return to quiet solitude and to Jaskier‘s gentle voice.  
Soon he came upon the small bathing pond. Upon passing by, Geralt glanced into its clear waters and saw dozens of tad poles mingling in between juicy algae.   
He began his search here, walked around the pond again and again, widening his circle every time. Noon would come soon and he‘d prefer getting to the burning part before being attacked by the wraith, but with every new circle his hopes diminished more and more. There was nothing here and the only choice that remained was continuing blindly, with only his Witcher Senses to guide him.  
With every minute then sun rose higher in the sky, towards its zenith.  
Geralt was growing tired of the search, and increased his speed.

There were only some minutes left to noon when finally- he found something.   
It was at the edge of the forest, the last line of trees before the wilderness began. On a thick and low branch hang a rope covered in mold and sand.   
Its end was tied in a noose.   
Before Geralt could reach out to examine it more closely, something crunched beneath his feet.  
When he looked down, he saw a pile of muddy bones.

Jaskier heard the Witcher‘s steps approaching and looked up from the lute in his lap. A moment later, Geralt stood beside him, clothes and hair splattered in grass-stains and earth. He seemed content.  
The bard got up from the bed and pulled the witcher into a long, tight hug, before kissing him gently on the lips.  
„Is it over?“  
„It is.“  
They lay in each other‘s arms for a moment longer before Jaskier pulled back slightly.  
„You need a bath. Although I do like the smell of forest on you.“  
„Mh.“  
Geralt glanced towards the lute and the many papers strewn about.  
„What have you been up to?“  
„Oh... you know... Therapy.“  
„You‘re writing a song?“  
„Yes.“  
„Is it about...?“  
„It is. I can‘t stop thinking about it. And I tried to take my mind off things by making some music, but all that came out was a song about the sorceress and her lover. And well... what can I do but follow inspiration. Maybe it will take the pictures out of my head and leave me in peace.“  
Geralt‘s gaze softened and he pushed his fingers through Jaskier‘s curls.  
„Can I hear it?“  
„Not yet, it‘s not finished. See, I took some of their letters from the cave and used their words for the lyrics. I hope it will give them some peace...“  
„A beautiful idea.“  
Jaskier smiled.  
„If you think so, it must be right.“  
„Have you thought about what to do with the house?“  
„The house?“  
Jaskier cocked his head to the side.  
„What do you mean?“  
„Well, after everything... do you want to stay here? And keep coming back?“  
The question seemed to need some contemplation, for Jaskier remained silent for a while. Eventually he let out a breath and looked up.  
„I don‘t know yet. I want to stay for a bit longer, and after that I’ll see where my fancy will take me. I‘ve thought about destroying the house, end it once and for all, but I love it here too much for that. I am undecided and confused... I need time, I think. To decide.“  
He let go of the witcher to pluck some moss out of his white hair. Geralt nodded slowly and closed his eyes, thinking of the right words to say.  
„Whatever you decide, I will be with you.“  
„Thank you...“  
They exchanged another kiss, then Jaskier threw his hands onto Geralt‘s chest with a smirk.  
„And now, Witcher, let’s banish the gloom. We resume our peace and lay down our work. And we will not pick it up again until we feel like it!“  
Geralt‘s lips split into a grin. He knew the story of Blossom and Désirée would be with them for a while, but together they would be alright.   
And until then- it was time to enjoy their holidays properly.   
For real, this time.  
„Your word is my command, Bard.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that- it is done.  
> I didn‘t think I‘d enjoy writing a mystery as much as I did, snd even though it was short, I found it very sweet.  
> Thank you to everyone that got until here, I appreciate you reading my words!  
> And now... Farewell!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Somebody expressed the wish to see what happened on that holiday-trip in my story ‚Circuitous Affection‘, and I guess this is it! It was meant to be a soft and relaxing oneshot but now I have ideas for a mystery-like setting so mh? Maybe more will follow soon


End file.
